Light Within the Dark
by Jason Thompson
Summary: Galadriel tries to sooth Boromir's troubled soul...


Light Within the Dark  
A Lord of the Rings Fanfiction Story  
Author: Jason Thompson  
Pilamsega@yahoo.com  
January 10, 2003  
  
Disclaimer:Once upon a time there was a guy he wrote a story with characters and settings he didn't own, but he put a disclaimer on his story and that made it a little less illegal. The Lord of the Rings is the property of JRR Tolkien and his estate. I don't own anything except the situation characters are in.   
  
Category:AU (Slightly) Boromir/Galadriel (loosely)   
  
Spoilers:Fellowship through Lothlórien  
  
Warnings:  
  
Summary:The Lady of Lothlórien attempts to sooth the pain of Boromir, and it appears that Gimli was not the only member of the troubled Fellowship who was taken by her beauty.  
  
Rating:PG  
  
Distribution:Ask First.   
  
Notes:This is my first Rings story, and this scene exists nowhere except my own mind, it occurs sometime between their arrival in Lothlórien and the viewing of the Mirror.  
  
Dedication:Dedicated to the usual suspects; Bri, Mary, Duchess, Dale, Blaire, Stone Cold, Ice Wing, Arashi, Aslan, Vega, Tony D, Jen Zimmer, Louise, Sairs, and Queen Angel who have allowed me to bounce my ideas off them, and Krac, cause she has the evil bunny slippers.  
  
Light Within the Dark  
  
Boromir's steps were heavy as he put some distance between him and his companions. He needed to find silent refuge from his grief. His vision blurred and he felt the burning of unwelcome tears singe his skin. He found a simple wooden bench encircling the massive trunk of the tree that supported this platform and sat upon it, a weary sigh leaving his lips as he did. The tears continued their silent fall down his cheeks and he pressed his palms against his eyes to dam their flow. Alone with his grief he allowed the melancholy to worm its way into his heart once more.  
  
A mournful sound made its way into his ears and took his attention away from his own sorrow for a moment. Boromir stood and walked over to the railing to look into the Elven haven to try and find a source, but could find no sign of one. "It is a lament…" the sweet voice of the Lady Galadriel shook Boromir from the beauty of Lothlórien and brought him to a beauty that far surpassed it. "They mourn the passing of Gandalf." She gazed upon him with a passive expression.   
  
It was an expression he once thought signified to coldness of the Elves; a coldness that allowed them to seemingly let Gondor bear the rising hatred that raged out of Mordor with each passing day. The anger and hatred that threatened to burn the White City to the ground. He had grown to hate the elves in this crisis, but one look upon her timeless face, the tender compassion could be seen in her eyes now. In one moment, Boromir could now understand why Aragorn had so loved the Elves that he thought of one as his father and another had staked claim upon his heart. One smile from the Lady Galadriel and Boromir would forsake his birthright as easily as Aragorn seemed to hide from his.  
  
Boromir shook himself from his thoughts and turned back to the forest, "I share in their sorrow, Galdalf was a friend to all, Elves and Man, when I return to Gondor I will order the horns to blow a mournful call in all directions to express the loss of Mithrandir." Boromir wiped angrily at the tears that refused him a moment's peace.  
  
"The others of the Fellowship mourn the loss of Gandalf the Grey, but your pain lies somewhere else." Boromir turned and found that Galadriel was standing at his side; he had never heard her footfalls. "Tell me, Boromir son of Denethor, where does your pain lie?"  
  
Boromir shook his head in a reluctant fashion, "Forgive me milady, but I could not bear to unburden myself to you for fear of causing you heartbreak. For if I knew that I had broken a heart as lovely as your own, it would kill me as surely as you."  
  
Galadriel took his complement with a nod, "Your concern is appreciated, but it pains me greatly to see you so wounded." When Boromir did not answer she continued, "Is it your father you worry over?"  
  
"Yes milady. My father rules Gondor with everything within him, but with each passing sunset his ability falters a little more. The people love him, but the constant war rising in the east, the horrible blackness which rises from Mount Doom; and the whispers of Isildur's Bane weigh heavily on Gondor. It has been a long time since we planted more crops then bodies and even the White City has begun to decay. I fear that soon all the sons and daughters of Gondor will fall into despair. They have no hope. All I want is to give them hope again."   
  
Boromir looked out and caught sight of Aragorn below them, "He could give my people that hope. The Shards of Narsil remain in Rivendale when he should be wielding them at the base of Mount Doom in the hopes of turning back the Hordes of Mordor. Yet he remains hidden." He felt an unreasoning anger boil within him, "If he truly is the King of Men, why does he do NOTHING?" He turned to the Lady at his side begging with everything within him for her to answer him.  
  
"Aragorn is not ready to claim his fate, but he will soon. He will not let the race of man fall. But he is afraid."  
  
Boromir's jaw clenched angrily, "Why does Isildur's heir know fear?"  
  
"Because he IS Isildur's Heir, he fears that the same temptation Isildur fell to will claim him. Man has always found no sweeter taste than the taste of power and Aragorn fears that taste and what it may lead him to do."  
  
Boromir turned to her, "Men are weak, we know our weakness but we have strength as well Milady." He turned back to the dark-haired man who held so much hope for Gondor within his very veins. "I fear Aragorn only knows the weakness and cannot see the strength."  
  
Galadriel smiled slightly, "Show him the strength of men Boromir. Show him that within the hearts of men there is the hope that he represents. Do not wait for him; lead him into the world of men."  
  
Boromir felt fresh tears spill down his cheeks, "Milady, I fear I am not the man for such a task."  
  
She regarded him silently, "Why is it you cannot show Aragorn the strength of men, show him the hope you want him to represent?"  
  
"Because milady, I see no such hope. I fear that by the time I return to Gondor there will be little Kingdom for Aragorn to claim. I fear that we are in the waning twilight and night will fall upon the world of Man. Isengard and Mordor are allies and I fear no amount of courage can stand against that." Boromir walked back to the bench and sank onto it, he buried his face in his hands and felt the sorrow he'd felt before Galadriel had appeared return and grip his heart and soul.  
  
He felt her standing in front of him once more and when he looked up he saw that a single tear slid down her cheek, "Even when night falls, the dawn always follows. Though Mordor is on the rise, there is enough within the world of man and within you and your Fellowship to turn them back. Even now, when all seems lost, Boromir, there is hope. You must believe that."  
  
Boromir nodded absently, her words slowly seeping past the despair and bringing his heart a taste of warmth in the darkness, "I will try Milady, though I am weary now."  
  
Galadriel nodded, "Then close your eyes and rest easy here, you are safe for now Boromir son of Denethor." Boromir closed his eyes as instructed and sleep quickly began to claim him. Just as his consciousness faded, he felt the touch of her lips on his brow and her gentle words, "Be at Peace, Son of Gondor."  
  
***  
  
The Lady Galadriel watched the slumped form of Boromir as he slipped deeply into a dreamless sleep. She felt tears come to her eyes once more as she thought of what was going to happen to him. She knew his role was an important one in Aragorn's rise to his rightful place, and for Frodo's destiny to walk into Mordor alone, but she felt sadness that a man whose only sin was love of his father and countrymen had to pay such a horrible price. It was her hope that his name and fate would be remembered in history with honor. With a sad smile, she left his sleeping form to a moment of peace.  
  
***End*** 


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